


Ten Years Later

by luluren



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 04:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15134669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luluren/pseuds/luluren
Summary: It's a reunion, ten years later. And Babe doesn't know what the hell is happening. Though in all honesty - he really does.





	1. Chapter 1

He was married for almost ten years. Right after he got back from the Army he found a girl and latched onto her. 

And now it’s ten years years later - he’s in his mid-thirties, works at the docks, and his wife is cheating on him with the man that runs the corner store. 

Thank god there’s no kids. 

He's known about the infidelity for over a year now, and he honestly didn’t care until the neighbors starting gossiping. Gossip gets back to the family and he can’t hurt his Ma like that. She always liked Lila. 

He leaves her just after the new year, tells her to keep the house and the man from the corner store. He’ll find somewhere else to live. 

She doesn’t argue. 

It’s a hotel he finds near the docks, just a few blocks away - means he can sleep in every morning now. He doesn’t talk to anyone, not until the phone rings one Saturday night. 

He’s halfway through a bottle of gin and weeknights he would’ve ignored the call but he’s had more than enough alcohol to not even question picking up the phone. 

“‘Ello?”

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Gene. Doc. Doc Roe.” The voice is soft with just the perfect amount of southern drawl that makes Babe’s stomach soften and send memories hurtling through his brain in just a fraction of a section…

Cold. So cold. Except when Gene’s curled against him in a three by five foot foxhole. Or when they’re pressed arm against arm on a rooftop staring at the dirty Rhine, watching Germans throw mortars their way. Drunken nights in Austria, staring out the window at picturesque mountains with goats, _goats_ for Chrissake, on the hill sides. 

“Gene?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“How’d you find me?” Babe asks, pouring another gin on the rocks while his hand shakes. 

“Your wife.”

“Ex-wife.”

“Ex-wife then. I called to let you know about a reunion and she said, well, you were staying somewhere else.” 

“A reunion?”

“Yeah. We’re getting together in Virginia next month.”

“Who?”

“Me, Luz, Perconte, Winters, Nixon, Toye, Guarnere. Buck, Spina. Anyone that can come. We’re hoping Leibgott will make the trip, and Malarkey.” Roe pauses. “You.”

Babe pulls in a deep breath and takes a long swallow of gin, his gaze resting on the sad room he’s called home for the last couple of months. “I don’t know.”

“The hell you don’t,” Gene bursts out, reminding Babe of the night Moose got shot. “Look, Heffron, I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on - I mean, I’ve got an idea but - you’re coming to Virginia.The 14th through the 17th. It’s a four day weekend you’re gonna take.”

“Gene-”

“Edward, I’ll come pick you up myself and drag you there,” he threatens. 

And suddenly, just like that, Babe’s resigned to the fact he’ll be going to Virginia in three weeks. Because when Gene talks like that, he means it. 

“Ok.”

Gene pulls in a breath and lets it out slowly. “It’s Richmond. The Grand Hotel on Vine Street. Call them tomorrow and book a room. Ok?”

Babe pulls a sheet of paper and a pencil from the table and makes the note. “Got a number?”

“Call the operator. I’m not gonna do everything for you.”

Babe laughs. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in a few weeks then?”

“Yep.” There’s a moment of silence before Gene speaks again. “I’m sorry about your wife.”

Babe huffs out a half laugh. “Yeah, Doc. Me too.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks later he pulls into the parking lot of the Grand Hotel on Vine Street in Richmond. 

His hands shake as he puts his Chevy in park and turns the ignition off. He’s vacillating between ‘this is a great idea’ and ‘why the fuck did I agree to this?’

The lady at the front desk is nice - she smiles a lot as he hands over his cash for the three nights and signs his name. He can’t help but look at the other names signed in the book - Luz, Winters, Nixon, and most importantly, Eugene Roe. 

Babe’s room is on the second floor, number 212. He drops his bag on the bed, empties it and puts the few clothes he’s brought into the drawers of the dresser before leaving and heading towards the bar. 

There are only a few people in the bar, none that he recognizes. He orders a gin from the bartender and tries not to notice the pale ring around his left ring finger. It’s been six months and the damn paleness won’t go away. 

Ten years makes the quite the impression. 

He’s halfway through his second drink when a hand clamps on his back and he half reaches for the rifle that’s no longer slung around his shoulder because those memories will never leave, and finds Guarnere grinning at him. 

“Babe, ya sonofabitch!”

It goes so quick from there. 

Guarnere, Luz. Perconte and Buck, Spina, Martin, Leibgott. Winters and Nixon come in together twenty minutes later and Jesus, all those faces. All those people he’d lost touch from but they left such a goddamn impression on him. Not a day has gone by since 1944 that he hasn’t thought of them all, and thought of all the ones he’ll never seen again. 

He’s starting his fourth drink when he catches eyes with a dark haired man walking in the door and he stomach does an odd swooping thing. 

It’s Gene. 

He looks older. There are lines on his face that weren’t there ten years ago. But he’s still Gene.

There’ve been a lot of hugs going around tonight but nothing compares to the feeling of wrapping Gene into his arms and not giving a fuck who sees. 

Tonight might be one of the only nights he can hold tight to this man without anyone caring. 

“Jesus, Babe,” Gene says into his shoulder, his fingers digging into Babe’s back. “Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Babe laughs. “I knew you’d come get me so I figured I’d make your job easier.”

It’s getting awkward now, the hugging, so Babe reluctantly pulls away. 

“Thanks for making me stop in Virginia and not going all the way to Pennsylvania,” Gene says. They sit at the bar and Babe waits and smiles as the guys come to greet Doc over the next half hour.

It’s enough to know Gene’s a foot away instead of a thousand miles. Crazy how better life is when Gene’s close enough to touch. 

And he doesn’t mean touch in a weird way - just knowing their shoulders can touch, or the inadvertent touch on the thigh or the arm or Christ, the _look_. 

It makes all the difference. 

He never really had that with Lila. They rushed things. Because, y’know, the war. Or at least the aftermath. 

It’s not even a romantic thing - it’s more of an understanding. 

They eventually leave the bar and make the rounds. No one seems surprised to see the two of them following each other - the last six months of the war they were inseparable. 

Even Guarnere knows, though he wasn’t there. 

The night ends with drunken goodnights and get some sleep and we’ll see you for breakfast in the morning. Gene walks Babe to the stairs and asks what room he’s in. 

“212. You?”

“117. Mind if I come up?”

There’s no thinking about an answer. “Sure.”

“Gonna grab the bottle of whiskey I brought. I’ll be up.”

Babe leaves his hotel door unlocked and sits on the bed, his head spinning. He can’t get past the feeling of having Gene in his life again. It’s been so fucking long. It feels like the one thing he’s been missing in the past ten years. 

Like it’s the one thing that makes everything worthwhile. 

The door opens, and Gene steps inside, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a sheepish grin on his face. 

“You drunk?” he asks. 

“Very. You?”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He opens the bottle and pours a generous amount into the two glasses on the side table. “Cheers, Heffron.”

Babe takes the glass and clinks it softly against Gene’s. “Cheers, Doc.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

It’s almost two in the morning when Babe confesses he can’t drink anymore and he’s got to get some sleep. 

They’re already lying in bed, the bottle of whiskey between them and Gene clumsily turns on his side. 

“Mind if I stay here? I - I don’t think I could find my room if my life depended on it.”

Babe laughs. “Yeah. Not like we haven’t done it before.”

The bottle of whiskey moves to the side table and Babe shucks off his pants and button down shirt. He tries not to watch when Gene does the same. 

They end up under the covers, arms barely touching, but Jesus Christ, it makes him remember Bastogne in a rush. Gene leans over to turn off the lamp on the side table and then he lights a cigarette, his face glowing momentarily in the light of the cig. 

“It’s a lot warmer here,” Gene says, passing the cigarette over. 

Babe takes a long drag and laughs softly. “Every winter I have a moment where I think _thank God I’m not in Bastogne._ Crazy, yeah?”

Nex thing he knows, Gene’s crushing the cigarette out and pushing him onto his side so they’re spooning, just like they did ten years ago. 

It takes his breath away. 

“G’night, Babe.”

“‘Night, Doc”


	2. Chapter 2

He comes awake slowly. 

Nothing feels real. 

Babe knows it’s Gene he’s curled around, but what they’re lying on is too soft and too comfortable. His nose should be cold and the ground should be hard but instead his nose is pretty damn warm and the surface beneath him is soft. 

The man stirs in his arms, moves until he’s lying on his back and his eyes flutter open. 

“Hey.”

Babe swallows back his morning breath. “Hey.”

“You ok?”

“Best nights’ sleep I’ve had in … well, ten years I guess,” Babe says in all honesty. 

Gene leans over and grabs a cigarette off the nightstand. “Me too.”

“Hand me one?” 

“Sure.”

Babe sucks in the smoke and stares at the ceiling. There’s no shame in lying next to a man in his underwear when they’ve shared some of the most intimate and emotional moments known to God. 

“We the only ones who shared a room?” Gene muses.

Babe laughs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Who do you think might’ve?”

“Nixon. Winters. There’s a bond there.”

“There’s bonds everywhere, isn’t there? After what we went through?”

Gene makes lazy smoke rings before turning to Babe with a wry smile. “Yeah, but I think some of us have got bonds that go deeper.”

Babe pulls in a deep drag. “I’d think it’d be more about the originals, not us replacements. I missed D-Day.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Why?”

Gene stubs his cigarette out before turning to face Babe. “What we went through, Heffron - Bastogne, Foy, Landsberg - it doesn’t matter _when_ you came in.”

“Then what matters?”

“How we got through it. And for me? That was you.”

Babe’s insides do this weird thing he can’t explain. “Me? I - I”m just me, Doc. I didn’t do-”

“Shut up, Heffron,” Gene says, lying on his back to stare at the ceiling. “No matter what the hell you think, you helped me. Those…” he clears his throat, “those were some of the worst moments of my life and looking back - all I can think of is you. And that stupid grin of yours.”

“Stupid grin?”

“Yeah. Used to drive me nuts.”

“I didn’t know I had a stupid grin,” Babe says, wondering what exactly that looks like. 

“Lights up half your face and I can’t ever tell if it’s sarcastic or not.”

Babe scoffs. “Goes both way, Doc.”

“What d’you mean?”

“The night Grant was… y’know. I wanted to beat that fucker to death and you stared at me with that stupid raised eyebrow, like I was fucking twelve and you knew what was best.”

Gene grunts. “I thought I knew what was best. That night at least.”

“In hindsight, you did.” Babe thinks of that bloody face, and how much he wanted to end the life behind those eyes but Gene stopped him. Made him see some sort of reason. 

“How the fuck do we remember this after ten years?” Babe wonders, taking a last drag of his cig. 

“It’s a bond, Babe.”

There’s that crazy flutter in his stomach when Gene says his name because fuck, it took so long for that name to leave those lips. 

He’ll never forget that first time. 

_Babe. Baaaaabe._

\----------------------------------------------------------

Gene leaves soon after to go to his own room. His absence is noticeable. 

Babe showers and changes his clothes before making his way down to the dining room. He’s starving in a way he hasn’t felt in many years.

Ten years maybe. 

He sits besides Guarnere and Buck, listens to the gentle banter between the two of them until Gene walks through the doors. His black hair glistens in the light, with just the first hint of gray at his temples.

How can he be only thirty three and have gray hair?

Gene sits next to him, orders pancakes and a side of bacon. 

Babe’s not going to mention that he placed the same order a few minutes ago. 

“How hungover are ya?” Guarnere asks Babe, his smile too bright for a hungover Saturday morning. 

“Not feeling the greatest,” Babe responds, sucking down half the glass of water in front him. “You?”

“Never been better.”

Babe laughs. “I doubt that.”

“You don’t know shit, Heffron,” Guarnere says, looking him straight in the eye. “Those couple of years? They were some of the worst and the best of my life. I saw things I never wanna see again, and experienced some things I never want to forget.”

Babe meets Gene’s gaze. 

How fucking right is that?

“I get you Bill. I do.

Bill’s eyes flicker between Babe and Gene and he nods like he knows everything. “Yeah, you do. Let’s go golfing.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Babe is terrible at golf. 

Gene’s not that much better.

They make it through seven rounds before they call it quits and start their way back to the hotel. 

“Golf is shit,” Babe says. 

“Yeah it is,” Gene agrees. 

They look at each other for half a second before Gene nods towards the bar. 

It’s only a few minutes past one, but they order whiskey on the rocks. Then they order another one. And another. 

It’s half past three and they’re drunk. Babe feels almost sick from all the whiskey. He isn’t used to anything but gin. 

Gene pays the bill, takes Babe arm and leads him to his room - 117. 

Babe collapses on the bed, has just a second to register how much this bed is like his own before he feels a warm body crawling up his legs. 

“D’you remember?”

The words are whispered against his neck, and he moans. 

“I’ll never forget.”


	3. Chapter 3

Babe’s turning his face towards Gene, searching for a set of lips he hasn’t felt in ten years, when there’s a knock on the door and it's deja vu. 

It’s a memory first from Haguenau - the night before they left and Babe’s pressing Gene against the wall but a sound outside the door stills him. Then it’s a memory from after Landsberg - this time it’s Gene wrapping his arms around Babe, breath hot against his neck, warm lips against warm skin till laughter from the room below them stops the moment. Then it’s Austria - they reach towards each other this time and finally, _finally_ , lips meet and Babe’s about to lose his mind but fucking Spina…

They still on the bed. Gene groans low in his throat before pulling himself away from Babe and opening the door. 

It’s Webster and Leibgott. They left the golf course early and want to go see a movie. 

“You guys wanna come with us?” Lebigott asks. He holds up a flask. “I’ve got something to get us through.”

There’s no way to refuse, so they go. 

It’s a shitty movie. Babe can’t even remember the plot when they walk back to the hotel two hours later. 

They stop at a payphone, and Gene steps inside, his gaze avoiding Babe’s while he makes a call. 

The bar is full that night. Easy Company men are everywhere and Babe finds himself next to Leibgott. 

“How’re ya, Babe?”

They clink glasses together. “I’m pretty good. How’s California?”

“California is, well, the same. Helps that Webster moved out a few years ago.” Leibgott orders them both a shot of rum. “Nice to have someone in the same boat around.” 

They clink their shot glasses together before downing the rum. 

He gets a moment alone at some point and his mind goes back to this afternoon - Gene crawling up his body and whispering in his ear and fuck. 

This is what he’s been missing. 

Gene’s across the room, conversing with Winters and Nixon. He’d always had a way with the officers. He was always calm whereas Babe clammed up. Winters is somewhat of a god, and Nixon’s part of that god club because of the bond he’s got with Winters. 

Babe orders another gin on the rocks. 

For a second he thinks about calling Lila but why? She’s got the man from the corner store and Babe’s got … gin? 

Memories?

Gene?

Perconte’s sitting at the bar, and Babe sits down beside him. They talk about Foy and Perconte getting shot in the ass and joining the Easy Company curse. 

“My wife says I’ve still got the scars” Perconte says, downing the shot Babe buys for him. 

He’s drunk. Incredibly drunk by the time Gene stands next to him while he’s reminiscing with Joe Toye about losing his boots. 

Gene looks drunk too, a look Babe’s only seen a few times before. 

“I think I need to get some rest,” Babe says, staring at Gene. 

They leave the bar and go to Babe’s room - 212. 

There’s still a fair amount of whiskey left from the night before and Babe pours two shots with shaking hands. 

They down the shots, then do two more. 

“Babe-”

He can’t take the suspense anymore, he honestly can’t. 

Something started brewing ten years ago, and it’s brewing again. 

He can’t ignore it this time. 

They’re sitting on the edge of Babe’s bed, and he pulls Gene towards him, his hand on the back of Gene’s neck. Their lips meet in a rush and Jesus fucking Christ this is what Babe’s been waiting for since they got back to reality so many years ago.

Gene doesn’t even hesitate - he presses against Babe and opens his mouth, deepens the kiss that’s been waiting for so fucking long. 

It’s a breath of fresh air. 

Gene is life, Babe decides as he pushes the man back onto the bed. 

Gene breathes heavily, his chest heaving, but he doesn’t hesitate to pull Babe up his body until they’re lying on top of each other. 

He can tell Gene’s excited. And he’s pretty sure Gene can tell he is as well. 

“Babe,” he whispers, reaching up to suck lightly against Babe’s jaw. 

The movement sends shivers down Babe’s body and he presses his entire weight against the man beneath him. 

It takes him back to another time, ten years ago on a continent not even remotely close by. 

It’s Austria, and they’re biding their time before they start to ship West, back towards home. Babe’s rooming with Gene and another guy, a replacement whose name doesn’t really matter. 

The replacement’s on duty till five in the morning; Gene puts out his cigarette just after midnight, and doesn’t hesitate to crawl into bed with Babe. 

They curl around one another, Babe reliving those cold, fucked up moments in Bastogne and Gene reliving who the hell knows what as they hold tight to one another. 

Gene presses his hips against Babe’s, his grip tightening around Babe’s chest and a moan leaves Babe’s mouth when he feels Gene’s hardness against his back. 

He wants that. So much. In ways he never knew existed. And ways that just can’t be fucking done right now because … 

Fuck it, he thinks. He turns his head, kisses Gene deeply, tongues exploring and sensations on overdrive. 

But then there’s an interruption. Just like always. 

But now, ten years later, Gene is his - Gene’s beneath his fingertips and he can’t get enough and goddammit there won’t be anymore interruptions.

He wants to memorize every nook, every curve of Gene’s body. Wants to lose himself inside this man and pretend Gene’s his for the rest of his life. 

It’s like the last ten years haven’t really existed. As thought Babe’s just been half living until he could reunite with this man. 

It’s nuts. 

It’s fucking beautiful. 

Their bodies fit together perfectly, like they were made for one another. Gene’s hips push up as Babe’s hips push down and Jesus - he laps at Gene’s neck, tightens his hold on Gene’s arms and loses himself once and for all. 

Afterwards, holding tight to one another, the smell of sweat and sex heavy in the air, Babe whispers, “Jesus Christ, I’ve missed you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Babe slowly wakes to a morning that’s just begun. 

Gene’s lying on his stomach, breathing deeply. Babe takes a moment to look at that face - it’s no longer innocent, like when they first met, but there’s still a boyish quality to him. 

He wants to remember this moment. 

Because today is the last full day. He’s got today, tonight. Then they leave tomorrow. The thought of returning to that shitty hotel room in Philly leaves a sick feeling in his stomach. 

Maybe he should call Lila. 

But… fuck Lila. He winces even thinking the words. Lila was searching for something, and so was Babe - they thought they found whatever they were looking for but in the end, it wasn’t what they wanted. 

Babe takes a second to reminisce about last night and comes to realize _why_ they haven’t been romantic in over a year. 

He doesn’t want Lila. Or any other woman. 

What he wants is lying next to him and snoring softly. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed when Gene’s eyes flutter open and they stare at one another. 

“Hey,” Babe says, moving closer and wrapping an arm around Gene’s waist. 

“Mornin’. You ok?”

“Yeah.” Babe chuckles. “I think so anyway.”

Gene’s eyes darken. “Don’t doubt anything, Babe.”

“You don’t doubt?”

“When it comes to you?” He chuckles softly. “No.”

“ _Why?_ We - we haven’t seen each other in ten years,” Babe says weakly. “The fact that we even met at all -”

Gene rolls his eyes and gently pushes at Babe’s shoulder. “I believe in fate, Edward. You and I were meant to find each other. And I honestly don’t give a shit how long it’s been.”

His words leave Babe breathless, with no other thought than to light a cigarette because that action doesn’t require any thought at all. 

He lights two and hands one off to Gene. He wants to ask what happens next, but he also doesn’t want to make things weird. 

Or any weirder. 

He’s been _inside_ this man. He’s found intense pleasure by being with this man and the thought of going back to Philly - 

“What’re you thinking?” Gene asks. 

He doesn’t think before speaking. “I don’t want to leave this room.”

Gene’s face softens before he pulls in a deep drag of the Lucky Strike between his fingers. “Me either.”

Something’s nagging at the back of Babe’s mind; something that’s been bothering him since last night. 

“Who’d you call on the payphone?” he blurts out. 

Gene doesn’t hesitate. “My ex-wife. I wanted to make sure our son was ok.”

Babe’s stomach rolls. “Your son?”

“We got married right after I returned. Had a son five years ago. He - he’s amazing.”

Since marrying Lila and never procreating with her, he hasn’t really thought about what it’s like to have kids, other than to be grateful there weren’t any. But now, knowing there’s a miniature Gene running around - 

“What’s he like?” he asks impulsively. 

Gene laughs, and stubs his cigarette out. “My mom tells me he looks like me. Pale, dark hair. He’s quiet, thoughtful. But his laugh - it sounds just like his mother’s.”

“What’s his name?”

“Edward.”

Whatever breath that’s been in Babe’s lungs leave so fast he’s left light headed. “ _Edward?_ Are you shitting me?”

Gene doesn’t even blush. “It’s my father’s name,” he says matter of factly. “But that wasn’t the real reason. There’s no regrets there, Babe.”

There are no words. None at all. 

So much has been revealed in the past five minutes Babe’s head’s reeling. 

Gene was married, and had a kid he named after Babe.

“You’re such an important part of me,” Gene explains, resting his palm on the side of Babe’s neck. “I wanted you to be a part of my future.”

“Gene, I -” He’s at a loss for words because there aren’t any. 

And maybe there doesn’t need to be any words. 

Because it’s Gene. 

And it’s Babe. 

And, even though it’s ten years later, the future’s right in front of them.


End file.
